


Do You Hear The Choir Ring?

by agnes_stewart



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- Middle School, F/M, M/M, Middle School, handbells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:43:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agnes_stewart/pseuds/agnes_stewart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ABC are a group of middle school students and also members of their school's handbell choir. They were a little ragtag bunch, but they were family. And things were okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The bell rang.

With it, students sprung from their desks, shoving papers into binders and slinging bags over their shoulders. Footsteps echoed over linoleum hallways as conversations sprang up between groups of friends. As children rushed from the classroom, one boy stayed behind. He had short blond hair and wide, inquisitive blue eyes.

Down the hall, his friends- who called themselves the ABC- were opening their lockers, shoving books inside and rambling on about the first two classes. Courfeyrac was saying that early mornings were 'wearing on his natural beauty', and Marius was telling a reluctant Combeferre about the latest girl to catch his eye.

Enjolras, the blond boy, could faintly hear them as he walked to the teacher's- Mr. Lamarque's- desk and asked questions pertaining to the lesson. Grantaire, a student with dark, curly hair was watching Enjolras curiously from the doorway as he chatted with the aging teacher, using exaggerated hand motions to convey his points. The two parted, exchanging smiles, as Mr. Lamarque gathered papers together for a meeting and Enjolras headed for the door.

He jumped when he saw the dark-haired boy standing there. "Grantaire," he said suddenly. "Didn't expect to see you there," he continued as they stepped into the hallway and into the flood of students.

"I was just waiting for you," Grantaire answered, turning the lock on his locker until it popped open. He was tossing his backpack inside it when a tiny figure was flung against him. "Dammit, 'vroche," he breathed as he was knocked into Enjolras. Turning on the boy, he offered a smile, and Gavroche wrapped him up in a hug. "Rough day?" Grantaire questioned, not used to the boy being so… clingy.

"English test," Gavroche answered, looking up at Grantaire through a fringe of blond hair.

"I thought you didn't care about that stuff," the dark-haired boy said, grabbing a bag of pretzels from his locker and handing them to Gavroche. The boy accepted them with a smile, opening the bag and munching on one before continuing his story.

Enjolras, who was still standing behind Grantaire, was slightly put-off about being knocked into but also intrigued as their conversation unfolded. "Of course he should care about it," he butt in, and the two turned to look at him.

"It's just sixth grade," Grantaire replied and Gavroche nodded.

"So?" Enjolras asked.

"So… no one cares in sixth grade. Just one slip up isn't the end of the world."

The blond boy let out a sigh as he shut his locker. "I cared. And you should, too, Gav."

Grantaire shrugged it off, turning back to the sixth grader. "What did you get?"

"D," Gavroche replied nonchalantly. "But she wants me to come in for a meeting."

"Just do it. You know, get it over with."

Enjolras shut his locker, slightly exasperated with how Grantaire was handling the whole thing. "How are you both so relaxed about this?" When there was no answer, he looked to Gavroche and said, "Just talk it out with your teacher. And study next time."

Grantaire scoffed, and Enjolras immediately turned a cold, blue eye on him. "Nothing like being talked down to by Apollo," he remarked.

Gavroche's eyes flitted nervously between the two as Enjolras prepared his response. "I'm only trying to make sure he doesn't make the same mistakes."

The dark-haired boy froze. "Same mistakes as me?" he questioned with an air of despondency.

Gavroche fell silent at this. That was just how their relationship went. Grantaire would do anything for Enjolras, but was always shot down by a cold, well-timed remark.

Enjolras didn't reply, and the trio fell into silence. It was as if a vortex had closed around them, locking out all sound from the surrounding students. This was luckily broken when Courfeyrac bounded towards them. "We better get going," he said, meaning that they should leave the building before a teacher caught them. They weren't allowed inside the buildings during recess or lunch, so the students were reluctantly leaving the building in exchange for standing in the freezing rain outside.

Grantaire walked silently, pulling his hood over his head to shield him from the rain while Gavroche hopped joyously onto Courf's back. Once the door to the inside had shut behind them, Combeferre instantly approached Enjolras, stating, "Something's wrong with R."

"You just noticed?" Enjolras sarcastically spoke, taking a bite out of a mushy, red apple.

'Ferre rolled his eyes. "That's not what I mean, and you know it." When there was no response, he coaxed, "What happened?"

"I said something," Enjolras said. "That's all."

Combeferre sighed and continued trying to get the story out of him while Jehan sat down on the asphalt and began to write on his arm in black sharpie. Courfeyrac and Gavroche sat down beside him while Bossuet, Feuilly, and Bahorel stomped around in the puddles that were forming in the uneven pavement. Joly, for one, was huddled inside as to ensure he did not catch a cold. Or bubonic plague. Or tuberculosis.

The only two who were missing were Marius and Eponine. But they were always together, and couldn't have been far off. The whole group always stuck together, so there was never a need to worry.

They were a little ragtag bunch, but they were family. And things were okay.


	2. Chapter 2

One thing the ABC had in common was there involvement in the handbell choir. There were eleven spots, and each was dutifully filled by a less than musically gifted eighth grader. In fact, the choir was notoriously bad. Their first concert in sixth grade ended in disaster, with a long awkward pause in the middle of the song as they struggled to regain their bearings and play on.

Mr. R, their conductor, was less than impressed.

But now, it was eighth grade, and though they were a long shot from perfect, they were at least competent at playing in front of an audience, and most players were dedicated to actually playing.

Well, except for Montparnasse.

Montparnasse was a tall, lanky boy with shining teeth and a knack for taking things that weren't exactly his. In seventh grade, a girl's phone 'accidentally' ended up in his locker. He was suspended for a week, and it was only his parents begging and donating money to the school that got him back in this year.

He had been in the handbell choir since sixth grade, but everyone knew he didn't care one bit. Montparnasse requested a study hall every time practice rolled around, much to Mr. R's vexation.

Montparnasse was only there to impress Eponine.

The only member of their group of friends not to be involved in the choir was Grantaire. He said- promised- he wanted to join, but Enjolras always scoffed in reply, saying he couldn't possibly care.

But that was the way things were.

It was a cloudy day in early January that Grantaire made good on that promise. It began when shouting arose from under the portico. The ABC exchanged glances, quickly realizing one was not among them. They rushed to the source of the noise to find Montparnasse pinning a boy down and laying punches on him.

"'Parnasse!" Eponine shouted, enraged as she hurried forward and pulled him away from the boy. "You idiot."

"Get up," Courfeyrac muttered, dragging Montparnasse to his feet. But it was too late. A teacher, Ms. Venetoulis, the short history teacher, was making her way through the crowd of students.

"What happened?" she questioned, her eyes raking over the students. None on the ABC spoke up, so she turned to the boy who was still resting on the ground, his lip split and a bruise forming a ring around his eyes.

"He jumped at me," the boy stammered, swallowing down his tears. "I bumped into him."

"Montparnasse," Eponine hissed, shooting him a critical glance, though doing something like that was not unlike him. The boy shrugged in response.

Ms. Venetoulis turned to the ABC, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. "Come on," she said, looking pointedly at Montparnasse.

He stepped forward, and the students watched as the two disappeared through the crowd and inside the building.

"This is awful," Enjolras spoke as Gavroche helped the boy up and offered to take him to the nurse.

"Montparnasse is an idiot," Jehan agreed as Gavroche and the boy started off towards the nurse.

Enjolras shook his head. "Not just that. But the fact that he'll get suspended. Expelled even." When the rest of the group didn't make any sign of understanding, he continued, "We need a new player."

A grin spread across Grantaire's face. "Then I can join." Enjolras prepared to speak, but the dark-haired boy cut in, "And I'll prove I care."

"That's a great idea," Marius agreed, shooting the blond boy a look that said don't say a word.

Joly nodded and the others joined in with enthusiastic displays of agreement, their enthusiasm slicing through the tension in the air.

Grantaire offered Enjolras a smile, which the blond boy easily ignored.

He also tried to ignore the way the boy's face fell.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________

Montparnasse was expelled that Friday.

The next week, Grantaire was a member of the handbell choir.

Wednesday came along, and the ABC crowded into Mr. R's stuffy classroom. Courfeyrac gave Grantaire a quick rundown of how to set up the bells. How many desks they needed to push together. Where the cushions were kept. He showed him how to put the cushions over the desks. At this point Grantaire said, "I'm not an idiot, you know." Courfeyrac threw his head back and laughed, before going to close the doors, trapping the heat and the music into the small room.

Courfeyrac was position one, the biggest and the lowest of the bells. In this position, he kept the beat for the rest of them. The ABC dubbed him 'the center' because of this.

Right beside him was Jehan, who was practicing by playing several notes in succession. His arms were marked up with sharpies, the elegant handwriting curling across his pale skin. Joly advised him against it, saying he would get skin cancer. Jehan just didn't really care.

In position three, there was Grantaire. They were all waiting with baited breath to see how he would perform, what with all the notes his part contained.

Next to Grantaire was Combeferre, who was calmly answering the former's questions. Questions such as, "Do I really have to play all these notes?" 'Ferre was known as 'the guide' because he was always ready to offer an understanding ear and give out advice.

Enjolras resided in position five, stoic and calm, just the way he approached everything. At every concert, he was the one who started each piece, counting out the beat before the bells rose in jubilant music. He was the undisputed leader of the ABC.

The next three positions were filled by Bahorel, Feuilly, and Bossuet. The trio spent practices laughing and sharing side conversations, while also trying to work out how to play the beginning of "Eye of the Tiger". They were by far the most unruly, so it was Enjolras' job to keep them in line.

He did a very good job of this.

Position nine was held by Eponine. She was generally very focused, but lately she had been sneaking sideways glances to Marius, in the tenth position. The two had been close friends for what seemed like forever, but the girl had recently discovered her feelings for him were growing. Not that Marius noticed. He had never been very perceptive.

The eleventh position was filled by Joly. He was a well-known hypochondriac and insisted on brining in his own white gloves, claiming one never knew what bacteria was residing in the ones the Mr. R provided.

Practice commenced with Mr. R saying, "Run a scale." Grantaire crinkled his nose, but caught on quickly, playing two bells rapidly in succession. The rest of the players paused at the sound, and Feuilly burst into laughter.

"What?" the dark-haired boy asked, looking down the table at the other players.

"Assigned bells only," the conductor spoke, and this only confused Grantaire more.

Combeferre, taking pity on the newcomer, said, "Don't use the sharps or flats. Just your G and A."

Once Grantaire was holding the correct bells, they ran the scale again, and though it was less than perfect, no one bothered to make it any better.

The rest of the practice passed by quickly with the group running through the two songs they had planned for the concert. It sounded awful, and several times the sixth grade math teacher, Mr. Flores, came to ask them to keep it down.

The clock struck 12:00, and clean up began. "Good practice, guys," Mr. R said, looking frazzled. He was at least seventy, and these practices weren't doing his age any favors.

The bells were quickly packed away and the desks were returned to normal. Within ten minutes, the ABC were sitting in the courtyard with their lunches.

Courfeyrac and Eponine were taking turns breaking off pieces of cookie from Marius' lunch tray. He didn't have the heart to stop them.

Jehan was lecturing Joly and Combeferre on sonnets, while Gavroche and Bossuet were planning an act for their two-man circus.

Feuilly, Bahorel, and Grantaire had broken branches off of a flimsy tree nearby and were engaging in a mock swordfight. "King of cats," Bahorel cried.

"Nice try, Tybalt," Grantaire answered, as the two twigs connected in the air.

Feuilly joined in, saying, "Bitch please, this one's for Poland."

Enjolras, who was looking on in horror, stood on one of the rickety benches, clapping his hands to get their attention. Everyone turned to look at him as he began to speak. "I am not going to allow you to butcher Romeo and Juliet. In fact, I have a request to make of all of you."

"Anything, Enjolras," Gavroche said, looking up at the blond boy from his seated position on the ground. "What is it?"

The others mumbled their interest and Enjolras continued. "As you all know, clubs sign up is fast approaching." They all knew. Each semester, the students signed up for a club, and even though they only met once a week, it was a break from normal classes. "And the newspaper is always looking for applicants."

Grantaire paused, and then said, "So you're basically asking us to give up our free time to join this paper?"

"Um… yes, actually. That's exactly what I'm asking you to do."

"I'm in," Jehan cut in. "On one condition… there's a poetry section!"

Enjolras let out a breathy laugh. "Of course, Jehan." The poet jumped a bit in excitement. "So… are you guys in?"

"I'll join," Joly said, and Bossuet mumbled his agreement.

"Of course, fearless leader," Bahorel added, giving a little salute.

Slowly, the other members of the ABC gave their support, until only Grantaire remained silent.

"What do you say, Grantaire?" Enjolras asked, dismounting from his spot on top of the bench.

The dark-haired boy shrugged his shoulders, deliberating with himself before mumbling, "Why not?"

_______________________________________________________________________________________

When clubs sign up came around, Grantaire opened up the survey on his laptop as he sat on the windowsill in the computer lab. For his first choice, he smoothly entered the name of the newspaper, "Le Révolutionnaire".

"How predictable," he muttered to himself as he submitted his choices. Shutting the laptop, he added, "Oh, the things I endure for that kid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here you got some insight to a lot of nerdiness. This is basically what my friends and I do. We're all characters from Romeo and Juliet. Except we don't have an Enjy to keep us in line.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it. I'll try to get the next chapter up soon.


End file.
